


You Know the Rules

by anna_unfolding



Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF
Genre: Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Domestic, Established Relationship, Inspired by Photography, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-13
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-18 13:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anna_unfolding/pseuds/anna_unfolding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan did not do it exactly right. Everything's fine, but yeah, yeah he does need to make it better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Know the Rules

**Author's Note:**

> I found this picture of rl!boyfriends ZQuinto and JGroff:
> 
> [](http://imgur.com/0uPYZ)[klb](http://klb.dreamwidth.org/) mentioned it happens to be her favorite picture of them, and that she pretends there is contact in it. I wondered aloud whether perhaps they weren’t touching on purpose, for some d/s ~reason, and then proceeded to write this fic throughout the day by tweets and DMs to her on my phone. Yes, all 2600 words. On my phone. Also, because I was looking at it on my phone my interpretation of the picture isn't 100% accurate, re: props.
> 
> Light beta and deep encouragement by [klb](http://klb.dreamwidth.org/). Thank you!

"You know the rules," Zach says, standing up from the kitchen table and slipping on his sneakers while Jonathan leans down to knock his forehead lightly against the table. He sits up again quickly. 

"Hey, you can help me get it right, though." He stands and sidles closer to Zach. Zach looks up sharply and Jonathan stops cold, pinching the ends of the zippers on his hoodie so that he doesn't reach out for Zach's belt loops. 

Zach's face softens a little as he watches Jonathan's fiddling fingers on the zipper. "Yes I think you're right; I'll help you get it right." Jonathan feels the relief well up in him. He turns to head down the narrow hall to the bathroom but Zach continues. "...After. You didn't do it to the letter, and you didn't ask for help, and you know the rules. I'll help you... when we get back. Until then, no touching." 

He grabs his sunglasses and ball cap. "You on board?" he asks, his eyes on Jonathan's face. Jonathan is super pissed he isn't having sex right now, but what would it mean if Zach _didn't_ care that the rules weren't followed? 

"Way on board," Jonathan replies, and tries to show in his pursed lips a little disappointment and a little pride. Noah barks and runs to the door, and Zach goes to get his leash. Jonathan grabs the shopping list for their dinner gathering that night and lets out a frustrated sigh. They hadn't fucked the night before because Zach was exhausted after a meeting with Young Dems in Culver City. But not too exhausted to prop himself up on his elbows over the pillow and say, "But tomorrow morning, you can." He'd leaned in and mouthed the skin just below Jonathan's ear. "I want you to. You can, _if_ you prepare like I say.” His voice dropped low. “To the fucking letter." Jonathan felt a shudder run down his body.

"I'd do it how you want, whatever you want, right the fuck now, Zach." But Zach laid back down on the pillow.

"Want to write it down? For the morning?" Zach asked.

He shook his head. "Nah, man, just tell me."

And Zach laid it out: hair washed and soft, no product. Close shave, the avocado face lotion. "No cologne. Work yourself in the bathroom, right on the toilet. If your neck isn't flushed and your dick isn't hard when you walk out of there, we'll have to wait ‘til you do it correctly." He kissed Jonathan lightly. Jonathan knew better than to try anything. Anyways, he wanted to wait, now. Wanted to be perfect for Zach. Wanted to earn the fuck. _Jesus_ , he thought, listening to Zach roll over and settle into the mattress. It took a while before Jonathan could settle down, though.

It'd gone so well, Jonathan thought. He’d been so turned on throughout the shower, the shave. He even used the blade like Zach liked, instead of his electric razor. Each glide of the blade felt like part of the submission, but even better, because it was above and beyond. The lotion felt amazing. Jonathan ran his hand along his thickening dick, once, and swallowed as a wave of desire washed over him. He was going to please Zach. And then he was going to fuck Zach. He wanted to be perfect, to look good, to smell amazing. He put a small drop of the cologne Zach loved on his chest, sat on the toilet, and yanked on his dick again and again until he was breathing hard with it, hard with the need for Zach to touch him. He stood and entered the bedroom. 

It’d been amazing: Zach's fingers over Jonathan's skin, tracing his jaw, tugging at his clean hair, Zach’s eyes scrutinizing and taking in each completed task. Zach's mouth was on his, licking into him, tasting him and biting at his lips, his jaw, his neck. But then suddenly Zach froze, his face at Jonathan's chest. 

Jonathan's heart was pounding. "Fuck, fuck," he said aloud as the forgotten command came back to him. _No cologne._ "Hang on, I'll fix it," he said, pulling away to wash again, but Zach kept him close, crowding him against the dresser cabinet and pressing his face into the base of Jonathan's throat, sniffing and licking. "Uuuhhhh," he groaned into Jonathan's skin. His hand snaked down to Jonathan's dick, clasping around it and pulling a little tightly. For one glorious moment, Jonathan thought it wasn't going to matter, that Zach wanted him enough to let it pass. He pushed his hips forward and reached for Zach's face to pull him into a kiss. But Zach was quick; his hands were off Jonathan's dick and were grabbing Jonathan's wrists instead. Jonathan let his head fall back and hit the dresser cabinet, his eyes closed.

"Well, fuck."

Zach squeezed his wrists and Jonathan opened his eyes. "Fuck is right," Zach said, letting go and stepping away. "Get dressed. We're talking Noah to the farmer's market." Zach pulled on black boxer briefs over his hard dick and Jonathan whined and reached for him. "Can't we-" but Zach stepped further away, gave him a look and said, voice rough, "No, no we can't. So no touching." It should have been a consolation that Jonathan could see how much Zach wanted it despite his fuck up, but it just made him feel worse for depriving them both. Now Zach wasn't getting something he wanted twice over. 

"I'm sorry," Jonathan had said, but Zach had tossed him a shirt. "You don't need to be sorry; you need to pay for getting it wrong, and then you need to fuck me like I said you could. So let's fucking go." Jonathan had pulled on his clothes. "How long do I-"

Zach had interrupted. "’Til I feel better."

***

"You left your belt off on purpose," Jonathan grumbles, eyeing Zach's belt loops as they wait at the corner for the light. Zach smiles and reaches a hand out for his coffee travel mug. 

Jonathan passes it over and Zach says, "Everything we do is on purpose." The light changes and he gives the coffee back to Jonathan to hold the leash as they cross. Jonathan stands still on the corner for a few seconds and then rushes to catch up. 

"Wait, I don't want you to think it was on purpose, because it wasn't; I mean, I forgot, and I wanted to smell good-"

"What you wanted was to do it your way, but that's not what we were doing." Zach stops at the first vegetable stand and Noah sits. Zach squats down to give him a treat and Noah licks him as he scratches his head. It sucks so completely to be jealous of a dog and Jonathan looks away.

They walk the Market like that. At the flowers, Zach asks for the ones without the lilies: "because of 'Allergies' over there." He pays the farmer and then gives Jonathan a small grin. At the honey stand Zach talks with the local beekeeper about changing zoning laws to enable urban beekeeping while Jonathan and Noah entertain the beekeeper's toddler. As they walk away Zach passes Jonathan a root beer-flavored honeystick, saying, "Here's your favored unholy alliance, babe," and Jonathan is careful not to touch his fingers as he takes it. Zach walks ahead, a small smile on his lips, and Jonathan feels inordinately pleased he didn't succumb to the temptation.

Jonathan is settling into the situation; it wasn't all that different from normal, not out in public, at least. They don't usually hold hands out on a walk or anything. But it's in those little transfers of leash or coffee or honey that they let their guard down. To deny themselves that small acknowledgment is unsettling, and leaves Jonathan wanting to make what's between them concrete. But with each item passed _without_ their usual touch, something tense unwinds inside him; the tension of having not gotten it right _to the fucking letter_.

He begins to feel light, like he's weightless, invincible. He doesn't have to touch Zach. He could do this forever. He will keep doing it, and the tension will leave them in tiny increments with every untouched elbow, finger tip, and fucking belt loop. Jonathan smiles and hums a few lines from [The Life of the Party](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3GqA720rIlc). He's so happy, so ridiculously happy to be making it right, to be doing this with Zach, to get to have this. He doesn't even realize Zach has stopped and turned back towards him, thoughtful. 

"What, you wanna get the pitted fruit?" Jonathan asks.

Zach shakes his head slowly and smiles, stepping closer. "You're happy," he points out, like he's accusing Jonathan of something. "You look fucking amazing," he adds, reaching his hand up towards Jonathan's face to touch him with the rolled up shopping list.

Jonathan wants to kiss him, feels he probably could, now. He smiles at Zach and pulls up his honeystick in between them to take a suck from it, blocking Zach's touch, and Zach makes a pained sound. "Showoff," he says, lowering his hand. Jonathan licks at the stick and turns towards their apartment. Zach catches up with him and jostles him with his shoulder. They knock into each other, clanging elbows and fighting over the leash, laughing when Noah escapes them both at the door to their building to race towards Daisy, their neighbor's shitzu.

When Jonathan bends down to scratch Daisy, Zach crouches next to him and balances with a hand on Jon's knee. He leans in a little. "You do smell good," he says like a confession, and Jonathan raises his eyebrows. "I like it. But there's a reason I requested no cologne. There's a reason for everything I ask, Jon; you know that, right?" Jonathan nods because he believes Zach. But he doesn't really _know_ it's true. He swallows.

"I don't need to know why, Zach; I swear I can follow-" but Zach kisses him, and Jonathan's hands freeze in Daisy's fur.

"You do need to know why. I need you to know why," Zach amends, and stands. 

“Okay.” He slips two fingers through one of Zach's belt loops and pulls himself up. He doesn't let go.

They say goodbye to their neighbors and half walk, half jog up the stairs behind Noah to their apartment. Zach has him against the wall when they get inside, lightly stroking his arms and shoulders as he kisses him. "It's because I just want to taste _you_ ," he says into Jonathan's neck when he breaks away from Jon's mouth. Jonathan tries to catch his breath; between the way his heart raced at the door and the running up several flights of stairs and getting the shit kissed out if him, he can't get his breath, or his thoughts, in order. 

He knows he wants to wash it off though; Zach is biting under his jaw and Zach's hands are firm, now; firm on Jonathan's hips. "Zach," he gets out.

"Mmhmm?" Zach mumbles into his skin.

"Zach, let me wash; let me go make it right." Zach bites at him so hard that Jonathan lets out a yelp. Zach's hips are now what's pressing Jonathan against the wall, and Jonathan grasps at Zach's shirt, half a mind to pull it off him right there. But the shower. "Let me up; let me make it right," he says again, and Zach pulls up to look at him.

"You already made it right; you make everything right," he says, and some sharp thing in Jonathan's chest abates, like the moment an ice cube stuck in your throat melts and you can swallow it easily. He slides his palms up to Zach's neck. "Besides," Zach says, "I can't wait now. Get these the fuck off." He pulls at Jonathan's shirt, and they make their way to their room, discarding clothes and shoes and all kinds of burdens. 

Being _allowed_ has always been a heady experience for Jonathan where Zach is concerned. He shifted from warm new friend to interested party the day he sent that flirtatious text about liking the way Zach looked in the clothes he'd confessed to 'liberating' from the Margin Call set, and Zach had responded with _What are you going to do about it?_ He'd been allowed to flirt.

And he'd been allowed to kiss one day; in fact, he'd had a honeystick in his mouth at the time, claiming root beer was, too, a fine honey flavor, and Zach's eyes had stayed on Jonathan's mouth long enough to constitute permission for Jonathan to put the honeystick against Zach's tongue, and wordlessly meet it with his own lips, the sweet honey spreading hot between their tongues as they kissed.

He'd been allowed a lot of things in the two years they'd known each other. To take care of Noah for a week. To be Zach's plus one. To say it out loud, to know this was his. 

Each time had rung like a bell in Jonathan's chest, vibrating his body and heart so that he tingled with the heady knowledge he _could_. And Zach, so brilliant at everything he sets out to do, has found a way to keep ~allowing Jonathan things, sweet, good things. Allowing him anew.

They're in their room, and Jonathan is rubbing his thumb against Zach's entrance, and Zach allows it; Zach allows Jonathan's thumb, his mouth, his dick, his skin-- Zach allows _Jonathan._ And Jonathan takes his time, vibrating over Zach's offered body, working them together so that they're both humming with it. Zach is calling out as Jonathan pushes into him; Zach's hole is gripping Jonathan's dick as he pulls out and pushes inside again. It's as though once Zach has allowed Jonathan entrance, he can't bear for him to go. Jonathan wraps one hand loosely around Zach's neck and places his other palm on the small of Zach's back, steadying them both. 

"Wanna touch you all the time," he says, and Zach spreads his knees slightly, letting Jonathan slide deeper on the next thrust. 

They both make a sound and then Zach lets out a huff of a laugh, saying, "So fucking do it." He flexes his back like a cat, pushing and opening his ass back to Jonathan completely, and Jon fucks him hard for one, two, three, four, five strokes before he's coming, his fingernails scratching Zach's sides. Zach has wrapped a hand around Jonathan's thigh, pulling him close, and Jonathan collapses on the bed, rolling Zach towards him and getting his mouth on Zach's as he pulls him off with sharp strokes. Zach whines into Jonathan's mouth when he comes, and Jonathan kisses his jaw, whispering, "Shh, I got you." Zach brings an arm up to Jonathan's side and drapes it there.

Noah's been fed and walked and is probably napping on the couch. The items etched on that rolled up grocery list are sitting in cloth bags in the entryway hall, and there is six hours until guests arrive. They're not even that dirty--there's nothing then: no pet, or chore, or shower, that has to come between them and doing what they want most. So they allow it; they sleep, hands touching along Jonathan's side and at Zach's neck.

When Jonathan wakes up, he hears Zach in the kitchen, shuffling things around and talking to Noah in what he thinks is a quiet voice. He goes to the bathroom and throws on his clothes, then joins Zach at the counter where he's slicing cheese and bread. "Hey," says Zach as Jonathan knocks lightly into him. Jonathan ruffles his hair and takes a slice of cheese, stepping to the other side of the counter and taking a knife and the loaf of bread. "Hey," he returns, and there they work, preparing a meal in the space between them. Jonathan smiles.

 

_The End_


End file.
